


Bringing Gifts

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon - Engaging gap-filler, Canon - Enhances original, Canon - Fills plot hole(s), Canon - Solves frequent reader complaint, Characters - New interpretation, Characters - Strongly in character, Characters - Unusual relationship(s), Characters - Well-handled emotions, Drama, Other - Freeform, Plot - Bittersweet, Plot - Can't stop reading, Plot - Dangerous topic w/satisfying end, Plot - I reread often, Plot - Tear-jerker, Subjects - Culture(s), Subjects - Explores obscure facts, Subjects - Legends/Myth/History, Writing - Engaging style, Writing - Every word counts, Writing - Evocative, Writing - Mythic/Poetic, Writing - Well-handled dialogue, Writing - Well-handled introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 01:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3832317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Silmarillion-based Christmas story. Maglor gives a gift to the Child and receives something in return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bringing Gifts

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

**Authors's Note:**  
Not consistent with my story 'In the Seventh Age.' What can I  
do, I wrote it to a different song.  
  
For how the idea of the One in human form fits into Elven theology,  
see Athrabeth Finrod ar Andreth in Morgoth's Ring.  
*******  
The third wise man came long after the first two had gone. He had  
followed the star, like he always did, on his constant journeys from the  
farthest west to the east. Now the bright light of the star fell upon  
the child through the holes in the thatched roof, but the child  
outshone it. The wise man entered the stable, knelt to the girl who sat  
by the cradle, and then knelt again to the one who lay there.  
The smell of frankincense and myrrh filled the humble room, along  
with gold, and precious gifts. "I give my voice," the wise man said.  
"He does not need it," said the girl. "His power will be greater  
than words or sound. He brings all gifts within himself."  
"I do not give for his need," said the wise man. His voice, which  
had before been so fair, was rough now, and weak. "Child of the One,"  
he said. "Can it be?"  
"It is," she said.  
"What is your name?" he asked her.  
"Miriam, daughter of Joachim, of the house of David."  
David. The wanderer had lost track of the descendants of his son in  
his many journeys, and no longer knew what still remained of his  
children. David was not a name he remembered. But still, as he looked  
from the girl to her son, he could see, he was almost sure he saw,  
something of Elros' eyes.  
***  
Many years later, he returned to hear the child preach. He was not  
one of the Twelve, for the One had come for mortal men. But he  
followed, and listened.  
"If you would follow me you must leave all you have," said the  
Teacher.  
"I have nothing," Maglor said. "I have given all."  
"Then leave what you do not have."  
Maglor turned to the heavens, unwilling n his longing. The light of  
the star burned into him like the sun of the hot desert. "How can I  
leave that for which I have given my life?"  
Jesus smiled. "Do not be afraid," he said. "I will show you.   
Father."  
Of course. How had Maglor imagined that the boy would not know?  
***  
The child was nailed into wood, and his blood ran down the poles to  
seep into the ground. Maglor forced himself to watch, as he always had,  
knowing that nothing he would see, nothing he could witness was worse  
than what he himself had done. When the nails fixed the hands into  
place Jesus did not cry out, and it seemed that the moment of death  
took him not against his will.  
 _But he was supposed to teach me_ , Maglor thought.  
And then, _Perhaps he has._  
***  
Maglor sat alone, watching as the star rose as always above the  
hills, beckoning him on. This time he would not follow. Instead, he  
turned inward.  
Everything he had done, everything he had lived was plain before  
him. He followed a path through the deeds in his soul, looking beyond  
the star.  
And there was a door there. Had it always been, even in Valinor,  
for those who thought to seek it? Or was it newly formed when the child  
of the One broke forever the barrier between the mortal and the  
immortal, the barrier crossed when even the One could die?  
 _He brings all gifts._ And what gift had ever been denied him  
and his people save one, the one gift that Iluvatar had reserved for  
Men alone?  
It was so simple. All it was, was to leave forever all his life,  
all his desires, all his crimes, all his longings. _If you would  
follow me you must leave all._ Leave all chains that bound him,  
helpless, to his past. And to the world itself.  
Maglor did not know the moment the gift was given him. But when he  
opened his eyes, and the star was no more than brightness in his path,  
it was at that moment that he found he once again could sing.  
***  
Deep in the desert, where once were shepherds, there is a tomb. It  
is not remarkable, and the scholars only remember it because on it is  
written a name that neither the Hebraicists nor the Egyptologists can  
parse. We see that the one buried there had a wife, and left after him  
two sons and a daughter. Little more can be said, for the moment he  
chose a mortal life he passed out of the realm of legend. Even his  
songs are not sung in his name. But we sing them still.  
 __  
High king of heaven, my victory won  
May I reach heaven's joys, bright heaven's sun  
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall  
Still be my vision, O ruler of all.  
(From 'Be Thou My Vision,' traditional)


End file.
